Sacrifice
by writerspassion18
Summary: Theo didn't have it in his heart to kill a mother and a daughter. He did have the ability to love them though. (spinoff of my story "Need." Non-HEA; angst, romance, hurt/comfort)


**Author's note:** Hi everyone! For those of you who have been reading my story "Need," (a Dramione WIP) this is the short story spinoff based on the first seven chapters and will detail Theo and Fleur's story from the beginning. For those of you who _haven't_ been reading "Need," it's not necessary to have been reading it to follow along with this, but if you're interested, feel free!

-WP

* * *

 _June_

Theo rocked back and forward in his seat. He hated these meetings. For starters they bored him. Secondly, and most importantly, they could sometimes be unpredictable. It all depended on how foul of a mood the Dark Lord was in and who he was going to take his anger out on. It was usually the least performing Deatheater.

"Planning on falling asleep there, mate?" Draco asked him as he gently kicked him in the shin. Theo smiled and kicked him back.

"No. Just want this thing to start so we can get it over with."

"I wouldn't be in such a hurry. You finished your kill recently. That means that the Dark Lord will put you on another task."

"As he with you," Theo reminded. Both men shivered at that. Blaise, on the other hand, who had been within earshot of the conversation rolled his eyes at the pair.

"Get a grip, you two," he chuckled. "This, unfortunately, is the task that you signed up for."

"Shut up, Blaise," both Theo and Draco snapped.

Blaise continued laughing to himself until the room temperature plummeted. Not literally, but there was always a dark, foreboding feeling when Voldemort entered the room. He entered swiftly yet slowly, however that was accomplished, and sat down at the head of the table. His dark eyes scanned the room before landing on the far right side of lavish piece of wood.

"Zabini, your report?"

"Lovegood is dead," Blaise informed him. "Barely a struggle and a quick Avada took care of her."

"Very good," Voldemort nodded in approval. "You will have Dean Thomas as your next task. Handle it just a quickly."

Blaise tilted his head in a nod. "As you wish, my lord."

Voldemort's gaze went down to the next person in line, Draco. Theo always felt bad for him when it was his turn for his "evaluation." For some reason or another, the Dark Lord took great pleasure in torturing him, and it wasn't always physical. His father was dead, killed fairly early after the Battle of Hogwarts for his treason at the end of the fight. His mother, bless her poor soul, had been locked away in the dungeons of the Manor ever since then also. _For three years._ Voldemort, the sick prick, would make Draco go down to the dungeons to "take care of" some prisoner in a permanent fashion. What was terrible about it was that he would never say who. It would just be a cell number, and Narcissa could be in any one at any time. A twisted game of Russian Roulette. It was a wonder how Draco hadn't cracked yet.

"...the mudblood Hermione Granger."

Theo had been too much in his own world to fully pay attention to what Voldemort had been saying, but hearing Hermione Granger's name had brought him back to full awareness. It wasn't even his kill and _he_ felt the pressure. To go after one of the "Big Three?" It was a sure setup for failure, another thing that Voldemort did to Draco often.

"Young Mr. Nott?" Voldemort addressed next. "The Patil girl?"

"Dead," Theo said simply. He had been given a nod of approval, but on the inside it hurt. No, he didn't know the witch well, but he had had enough classes with her to know that she was a decent person. What had made it worse was that she hadn't fought him. It had taken Theo two weeks to find her and when he had, she had merely set her wand on the table, arms at her sides, and egged him on. She told him to "make it quick." That's what he did. He almost wished it had been gruesome. Perhaps then he would sleep better.

"You shall have Fleur Weasley as your next target," Voldemort charged him.

"Yes, my lord."

The meeting ran like this until everyone had either been given a new task or scolded, then punished, for not being successful. When the meeting was over and there was no one left to hear them, Draco's inevitable (and rightly deserved) groaning began.

"Sometimes I wonder what he's waiting for," Draco huffed. "Just kill me and get it over with. I mean, sending me after _Granger?_ Is he kidding? Who next? Potter? Weasley?"

"To be fair," Blaise inputted, "Weasley would hardly be a challenge."

Draco paused and nodded. "Fair point."

"Look at it this way, a hard kill means no new task for a while," Theo shrugged. "I'd say that makes you lucky."

"Thinking that Veela is going to be easy?" Draco asked. Theo pursed his lips for a moment and wiggled his hand.

"Could go either way to be honest. I guess I'll find out when I get a start on this tomorrow."

"Good luck then."

Theo nodded and bid farewell to his friends. He took the Floo after them and went to a nearby Floo station that was about a ten minute walk from his house. The word "house," however, was an understatement. Like many of his upper class, pureblood friends, he grew up rather wealthy. He had lived in a large mansion with two dozen house elves and there was nothing that he asked for that he didn't get. Where he lived now though reflected _none_ of that. Nearly a year and a half after the Battle of Hogwarts Theo had told his father that he was moving out. His father had been befuddled, to say the least, at why his son would want his own space when he had all the room in the world in a mansion that could be reclassified as a maze. But that was the problem. It was just...too big, and it scared him.

War was a two-edged sword and there was simply no grey area (granted, Blaise threatened that grey area regularly). Either you enjoyed the hunt or you didn't. You loved to kill or you didn't. You were able to sleep at night or you couldn't. Theo was on the negative end of the spectrum. The disturbed end. The _haunted_ end. He could kill a person fine enough, but not without a chisel to his conscience. Don't even talk about the scrimishes and raids that he had been in. The ones that were so chaotic he barely had time to think. All he could do was react to every brush of wind or every crack of a twig. In the end, and worse off day by day, Theo had become paranoid. Was there someone tailing him? Was there a wand aimed? Was someone in his house? _In his room?_

Theo's childhood home was going to drive him mad if he had stayed. And so, he ended up moving to a more than modest flat worthy of a minimum wage pauper. It was on the top floor to avoid easy access from the street. Warded heavily and only removable by himself, Draco, or Blaise, the flat held the bare essentials. It opened up immediately into a living room, half a kitchen to the right, an open door beyond the couch was his bedroom, and the open door next to it his bathroom. Open doors because he needed to be able to see everything the moment he walked in.

Theo had a routine, too, every time he came home. He would stand in the doorway and use a spell to detect any human life. It would always turn up empty, but that didn't stop him from checking under his bed or in his closet or behind the shower curtain just to be sure. It was tiring all of this, truly, and he was sure that he would go mad by the time this war ended. If it ever did…

Theo was about a block from his flat when his ears picked up the sound of a scuffle. Normally he would ignore it. He had a thing about not getting into fights that weren't his. It led to unnecessary bodily harm and getting onto other people's hit list if he came out on top. However, of the noises that he could hear there were three men and a woman. It was the woman that got to him. Sometimes Deatheaters and Snatchers alike didn't stick to the prescribed program. Kill and torture muggleborns. Kill resistance members. Kill anyone who helped anyone in either category. It was really quite simple. But some of Voldemort's followers liked to play for sport. Of course, muggles weren't very high on the "Okay, I'll tolerate you list," but doing any harm to them was unnecessary at this point. There was no need to harass a random stranger on the street either. Voldemort had control. He didn't need to make a show of himself to prove that he was here. It was for that reason then that Theo turned from the direction of his flat and to the source of the riffraff. As he stood partly concealed behind a building not too far from the scene, he grimaced.

"Back off," one of two Deatheaters ordered. It was Flint. It was no surprise to Theo. He liked harassing the innocent in his "down time" as he had once said over a firewhiskey shot. He was also with Montague. Another no surprise, although he was a bit more worrisome. While Flint did things for boredom, Montague did it for pleasure. It sent chills down Theo's spine just thinking about it.

"No," a man who seemed only just a bit older than Theo said bravely. Or stupidly. He couldn't tell which. He supposed the witch who was cowering behind his back thought he was her Knight. "She's done nothing to you. She's not even a muggleborn!"

"Who said we were going kill her?" Montague asked. He smiled too, and if Theo didn't know him well enough he would even say the smile was charming. "It's just a fun night."

"Yeah, I know what a 'fun night' is for you people," the man scoffed. "You're not having her."

"Oh, so _you_ say," Montague chuckled. "However, my wand says otherwise."

"Leave it to you two to disturb a quiet street," Theo said as he came from the side of the building and headed towards the group. His wand was in his sleeve, but he hoped to Merlin he wouldn't have to use it in a way that would stir his conscience.

"Ah, Mr. Nott," Flint grinned. "Give us a hand here then. We've got a lesson to teach about interfering with Deatheater business."

The woman behind the unnamed man whimpered as tears fell down her cheeks. The man himself gulped but his fear seemed to be internal. An impressive bloke. Theo sighed and decided to play this by ear.

"Your blood status, Miss? And I'd suggest not lying."

"H-half bl-blood," she choked. Theo nodded before turning back to his hideous cohorts.

"Has she been hiding any mudbloods?"

Flint scoffed. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"You said 'Deatheater business,'" Theo reminded. "Seeing as mudbloods and people who help them _are_ our business, if that's not what's going on here then leave them alone."

Flint was taken aback. Montague looked insulted, and now his piercing gaze was striking Theo instead of the troubled pair.

"You've got a lot of nerve telling me something like that," Montague sneered. Theo mimicked him as he took a step forward.

"And you've got a lot of nerve, period. Shouldn't you be off killing that Bones girl? I'm sure the Dark Lord would _love_ to know that you're out here getting your free time in before doing what you were ordered to."

A fight could break out right now. Theo could see how much Montague wanted to punch him, curse him, or do both. And so he waited, his fingertips dancing on the tip of his wand in case he had to use it.

Montague sucked his teeth and took a step back. "Let's get out of here, Flint."

Theo watched as they left. When they finally disapparated he exhaled deeply before turning to the woman who had finally come out from hiding behind her protector.

"You'd better leave here," he warned her. "If they find you again they'll do more than have their way with you. Understand?"

The woman nodded vigorously before she took off running. Theo stared after her before saying, "She wasn't a half blood, was she?"

"Muggle," the man answered.

"I'm guessing not a girlfriend or a relative judging by how fast she just left you behind."

"She was just a stranger. I don't like seeing people getting bullied." The man paused then before asking, "Why did you help?"

Theo finally faced the man and shrugged as he let his wand slip so he could put it back inside his oversized pocket.

"I don't like seeing people bullied either. Without cause, at the very least…"

"Well, in that case, thank you. Those two would've killed me had you not come along." The man held out his hand to shake and smiled, "Marcus."

Theo looked down at the hand once before putting his own in it. "Theo."

"I'm grateful, truly. And if there's anything that you need, _anything_ , let me know. I owe you one for saving my life, not to mention hers."

Theo chuckled. "I doubt there's anything you could give me that I couldn't get on my own, but I'll keep that in mind."


End file.
